Alpha Fighter Read Online Free PDF

admitted.
    "Friends?" she asked.
    I nodded.
    "You did all that without training, just fucking around with friends?" She shakes her head, this time in disbelief. "If I could do that, you bet I wouldn't be working in this dump. Hun, you have talent." She looks me sternly in the eyes. "I mean real talent."
    "But first I need experience," I said, "No one will hire me with a blank resume."
    "Eh." She acknowledges my point, scratching her chin in thought. "I really wish I could offer you something, hun, but we aren't making rent as it is on this place. We really can't afford to bring someone else on. I'm Anna-Lynne, by the way."
    "Thanks, and I understand," I sigh. "Honestly, I'd do it for free. But I have to pay my rent, too, you know?"
    Anna-Lynne nods in companionable silence for a moment. Then she says, "Sorry, hun. I don't know what to tell you. But whatever you do, don't give up."
    I nod. "Thanks." The encouragement feels good after being on my own for all these weeks.
    Unfortunately, encouraging words won't keep a roof over my head, nor will they get me any closer to my dream of being a tattoo artist.

Chapter Eight
    Cooper
    W ednesday is at the bar, waiting for me like a good girl, when I get to The Tipsy Steer. Some loser is trying to buy her a drink, but she waves him off impatiently, leaning forward on her stool to watch me walk towards her. A slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. I know what that smile means.
    "Let's skip the drinks," I say, sliding a hand down her back. "I need something else now."
    She arches her back against my palm in response, bending her head to nuzzle my neck while simultaneously giving me an A-grade view straight down her shirt to her impressive breasts. I cup one as she kisses down my neck from my ear, then pull her down off of the stool.
    "We're going," I declare, my voice already a little gruffer as I start to feel the excitement building in my pants. We're barely halfway across the parking lot when I undo the clasp on her bra, pulling it free from under her tight tube top. Her erect nipples strain against the shirt and she moans, reaching a hand the back of my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. I pull her into me deep, my frustration building.
    "In," I say, yanking the passenger side door of my truck open.
    She steps in, already flushed, hair mussed, and lips plump and just a little open. I change my mind. 
    "Backseat," I command. She climbs over the divider and I yank open the back door, getting in. I pull her tube top over her head, freeing her breasts. She moans, arching her back to bring her chest closer to me as she pulls my shirt over my head. I'm lying down on the seat and she's on top me, kissing down my chest. She undoes my belt, giving me a coy smile before she unzips the fly and takes my hard member in her mouth. Her tongue swirls over the tip as she strokes the base and I close my eyes.
    Finally.
    She's eager to please and takes my throbbing member deep in her throat. I reach down to take a breast in my hand, squeezing the firm flesh. I twist her nipple and she hums with pleasure. I put my other hand in her underwear. She's wet for me, and moans with pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut, as I slide one, then two fingers into her ready pussy.
    "I need your cock," she breathes.
    I put a rubber on. I always do it myself and with my own rubbers because it’s no secret that the MMA pays well and I would not be surprised if some of these women wouldn’t mind an ‘accidental’ condom fail to end in a shotgun wedding and a life as a trophy wife. No, thank you. Even when my little head is in control, my big head isn’t totally out of commission. I wouldn’t have gotten to where I am today if I was stupid.
    Then I flip her over, so she's under me on the seat, and thrust my hard cock into her welcoming pussy. The warm pressure against my throbbing member feels great. It turns off my brain, so I thrust harder and harder as Wednesday writhes under me, moaning and gasping. She